


two queens

by pretense



Series: awkward crushing [2]
Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Crush, M/M, but replace 'awkward' with 'unhealthily repressed' bec Reasons, heartbreak and hormones do not mix, theyre bffs bec i say they are, this is the one where malvil fucks by accident, vil-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretense/pseuds/pretense
Summary: Vil and Malleus have always been cordial, on par with the status quo. Some might even call them friends. Strange circumstances lend a hand in pushing the envelope a little further.
Relationships: Malleus Draconia/Vil Schoenheit, background Leona/Vil, implied Others/Vil
Series: awkward crushing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019737
Kudos: 25





	two queens

“Well, well… how unusual to find you up and about at this hour.”

Delicate steps carry Malleus towards the lone figure leaning against the parapet. The night is dark, but not cold, moonlight is draped over the young man’s fine features, starlight gleaming in amethyst eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”

Vil huffs at the query, straightening his posture. “Good evening, Malleus. I was just getting some fresh air.”

“Come now,” Malleus fits himself in the space beside Vil, sharing heat, companionship. “I can tell that something’s up.”

Vil eyes him critically, holding his breath for a long second, then he deflates. No use pretending in front of Malleus, they’ve always been rather frank with each other. “I found myself with a significant amount of free time tonight. Didn’t want to tire my eyes scrolling through MagiCam before bed so I… I went out.”

“To bask under the full moon,” Malleus supplies, tilting his head so that his horns pointed towards the luminous satellite. “Any particular reason you’re feeling so restless?”

“…”

Malleus smiles, a touch consoling, a touch… conniving. “If memory serves, the parapets aren’t your usual destination when you sneak out of your dormitory during full moons.”

Lips pursed tight, Vil’s crossed arms tremble as he vies to contain the notion to push Malleus off the roof for that jibe. “Fine,” he spats inelegantly. “If you really want to know then I’ll tell you.”

“Hm.”

“I called it off with Leona.”

“Ah.”

“He made me realize -- ugh. No. I’m not telling you that.”

“Oh, come now, why not?” Malleus leans in, eyes alight with green fire.

Vil sticks up his nose. “You already know too much.”

“I do hate being out of the loop,” Malleus admits. “But this isn’t about _me_ , Vil. It's about you, suddenly drastically changing routine--”

"I wouldn't call it _drastic_ ," Vil argues. "And so what if I broke it off with Leona? It was never anything serious."

"Three years isn't anything serious."

"It was just sex," Vil gives a dismissive shrug. "It's mind-blowing when he goes into a rut, yes, but..."

“But?” Malleus prompts.

Coming from anyone else, the probing attitude would have prompted Vil to curse them something nasty. But this is Malleus and this wouldn’t be the first time that Vil would confide in him the more sordid details of his personal life. In hindsight, Vil should have known better than to dabble with fae elements but they had been first years and no one else appeared to be even remotely at his level back then. Malleus, though, had a reputation that preceded him and Vil always did like being in the limelight. What’s some trivial teenage gossip in exchange for gaining such positive, if overly-curious, regard from the powerful heir to the Valley of Thorns. Malleus asks because he cares, in the same way that Rook professes devotion to him and offers unsolicited advice. Vil sighs, “It got complicated.”

Malleus, at least, looks sympathetic.

Vil finds himself spending more time with Malleus come the following week. Not that anything has significantly changed in his schedule, rather, it’s because Malleus keeps finding him even outside of their few shared classes.

“He’s gotten it into his head that you’re in a delicate place following your, ah, break-up,” Lilia explains, peering up at Pomefiore’s prefect.

Vil adopts a flat stare to level with that cheeky grin. They’re in the botanical garden, doing prep work for Alchemy class. Malleus has drifted over to a pot of plants two tables away, checking their leaves and stems as necessitated by the brewing instructions. Being in a temperate environment does wonders to his usual pallid face.

“He told you.” Vil isn’t really surprised. His and Leona’s affair isn’t much of a secret around campus, and he doesn’t particularly care who knew about it. What Vil cares about is people, especially _a certain person_ , knowing that it ended -- _that_ is what gets the rumor mill turning, after all. Did Vil lose his appeal? Was Leona’s performance no longer up to par? Is it because of a third party? Was it someone amongst the handful of others that Vil had been simultaneously sleeping with for the duration of his and Leona’s arduous -- _amorous_ \-- arrangement? Such silly hypotheticals, but it’s been proven in the world of show business that the more absurd a rumor is, the faster it spreads. Like wildfire. Like poison.

Rook waits for Vil to finish his litany of instructions for the cinema studies club before he clears his throat and nods towards the door to the Mirror Chamber. Passing students are giving the area a wide berth thanks to the imposing figure that’s lurking about, his aura palpable, that porcelain face unreadable.

Vil’s mouth quirks into a frown but he doesn’t look displeased, more curious. He turns to Rook. “I’ll be taking my leave, then. I expect your report on the club’s progress when I return.”

Rook bows with a flourish. He was going to see Vil off but it appears that someone else has earned that privilege. At least, for today.

Malleus greets Vil, mentioning some business outside the school grounds that needs his attention. Vil is off to meet his agent for an advertising project. Might as well leave together, Malleus proposes. Vil sounds amused at the notion that Malleus is sneaking off without his retainers in tow. They disappear into the chamber with calm, even steps.

“Heeeh, I don’t get it…”

A distinctly drawling voice reaches Rook’s ears.

“We’re being called back to the dorm, right? So what’re we waitin’ around for?”

“A little patience, Floyd,” Jade replies, smooth and assuring where his brother is brash. “We don’t want to intrude on clandestine affairs.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Swift steps bring Rook around the corner to find the Leech brothers idling. “I’d appreciate you two not making wild assumptions about my _Roi du Poison_ ,” Rook tells them, smiling.

“Monsieur Rook,” Jade gladly returns the smile, even adopting Rook’s naming convention. “Good afternoon.”

Rook nods. “And a good afternoon to you, too.”

“M-My Lord?!” Sebek shrieks.

Vil thought his usual barking baritone was awful enough but this shrieking is a whole new grating low.

Speaking of lows…

“Malleus? Would you be so kind as to--”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I… forgot myself.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Just…”

“Right, yes. I’ll…” Malleus halts, wide eyes staring at Vil’s face.

Vil stares right back, face flushing, lips tingling.

Heavy steps come running and Sebek is suddenly right beside them, helping Malleus back to his feet. “Are you alright, my Lord?” He’s checking Malleus over for injuries, completely ignoring Vil who’s left to pick himself up from the floor.

“I’m alright, Sebek, please.” Malleus extracts himself with grace, looking past the excitable freshman. “Vil?”

“I-I just remembered there’s something I have to do. Excuse me.”

  
  
  


“This is…” 

“Awkward.”

They look at each other, wry expressions matching. Malleus looks away first, touching a hand to his neck and rubbing a spot under his jaw.

It’s another sleepless night but there’s no moon to watch over troubled souls this time. Glowing fireflies buzz about, almost like twinkling stars only much closer.

“I want to apologize for the other… day,” Vil starts. It’s been a week of hide and seek but he’s not about to acknowledge that now that Malleus has finally caught him on the rooftops once more. “I shouldn’t have left so suddenly.”

“I completely understand,” Malleus smiles, and his whole expression softens with it. “Everything happened so suddenly, I didn’t think…”

“It was an accident.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

“…”

“…”

“The look on your face, though.”

“What about my face?” Malleus pouts and Vil couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“You,” Vil snickers, wagging a finger. “Looking so shocked.”

“Anyone would be shocked in that situation!”

“Malleus, it was just a kiss.”

“I am aware.”

“So why are you blushing so much?”

“I’m warm-blooded.”

“You sure are.” Vil’s shoulder presses against Malleus’ and a comfortable silence blankets them.

“... Vil?”

“Hm?”

The room is dark but Vil wouldn’t call it drab. He wouldn’t dare. Bare brick walls and geometric tiles, furnishings kept to a muted gray-violet palette with a few gold strokes, regal and gothic. Enchanted fire burns in the chandelier and candelabras, giving the whole place an other-worldly glow. The stone-carved statue of a great dragon stands guard beside the armoire… 

Vil falls back against the bed, very much naked.

  
  


“Well, look at what the little minx dragged in.” Leona leers but Malleus doesn’t take the bait, simply finding his designated seat for the Prefects' morning meeting. Of course, now that Leona had drawn attention to it, the fact that Vil and Malleus arrived together couldn’t be ignored.

There had been whispers about this premeditated coupling all morning but Vil kept his chin up, eyes forward, ignoring it all. What he can’t ignore, however, is the chilling silence from a certain spot in the room.

“With Malleus? Really?”

Vil closes his locker door to find Leona right beside it, the latter's modesty saved (if only barely) by the damp towel that’s draped across his shoulders.

Flying Lessons are over but there are still plenty of other students cleaning up around them.

“This some sort of final ‘Fuck You’ to me, specifically? You know I can’t stand that prick.” Leona frowns and Vil raises a brow to counter it.

“Because he’s civilized and you’re… what? A beast?”

A tight grip pinches Vil’s chin, forcing his face up into Leona’s sharp smirk. “I’m a beast in bed, baby, and you know it.”

“Oh, please,” Vil slaps the offending hand away. 

“Is it because he has horns? And a spiked tail that comes out only when he’s--”

“I swear to the Great Seven, Leona, shut--”

“And here I thought you were going for that slimy o--”

_WHAM!_

Benches are thrown against the wall, a bin of used towels topple over. There’s total silence, followed by a scramble of half-dressed students hurrying out, not wanting to get caught in the middle of two prefects facing off.

Leona stares him down. “Listen,” he mutters, deadly serious in the wake of everyone else’s departure. “I couldn’t care less if you intend to use Malleus as a fucking dragon dildo to tide you over but if you’re not actually going after the guy you really want then, hell, might as well get your ass back into my bed. Got it?”

Vil purses his lips, accepting the admonishment. It’s crude but it isn’t heartless. How very much like Leona.

  
  


There’s a whole strawberry cake between them, coated all around with pristine sugar icing and smelling so sweet it’s making Malleus’ teeth ache just looking at it. Malleus’ discomfort is glaringly obvious, prompting Vil to quickly issue his heartfelt apology.

He never intended to lead Malleus on given everything that has happened in the past month. They were friends, of a sort, and Vil’s complicated situation might have twisted that into something that it wasn’t, something that could never be. What had transpired between them was borne of a… severe… lapse in judgment, one that Vil hopes should never happen again.

“I understand,” Malleus’ acceptance comes without breaking a sweat. “I suppose I was under the notion that you were… what did Sebek say, looking for a ‘rebound’? And I had presumed myself fit for the role.”

“You…” Vil stares, uncomprehending. “You thought I was… And what do you mean, you ‘fit’ the role?!”

“I do serve as your confidante, do I not? Not discounting your right-hand man, of course. Lilia mentioned that it was perfectly normal for humans to, er, imprint on the closest available means of comfort--” 

“That is so not right,” Vil mutters.

“--and I had been there the night when you were vulnerable upon ending things with Leona.”

“Leona is right, you _are_ a real piece of work.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Nothing, just… I’m glad we cleared that up. You aren't a bad lay, Malleus, but I prefer us keeping things platonic.”

“Likewise,” Malleus holds Vil’s gaze, smiling contentedly.

The moment stretches, birdsong twilling through the meticulously kept garden. It’s just like that night at the parapet, except now the murky darkness has been displaced by golden afternoon sunlight. The horns atop Malleus’ head shine with a dark radiance. Exquisite.

“I commissioned Trey for this cake,” Vil says, directing those brightly burning eyes to the delicacy between them. “Strawberries are in season and he’s quite the baker.”

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“I had plenty to apologize for. Don’t worry about the calories, every bite is worth it and that’s coming from me.”

Malleus laughs. “Have a slice, then.”

“Oh, no, it’s for you--”

“I can’t possibly finish it all. Here.”

A slice of cake is set in front of Vil, ending the pseudo-argument. White tea is poured into dainty teacups to compliment the airy pastry, making for a fine afternoon snack.

“So.”

Vil hums, scrolling past comments on his latest MagiCam upload -- a delectable slice of strawberry cake with a rose garden backdrop.

“Why  _ did _ you and Leona call it off?” Malleus sips his drink, glancing over the teacup's golden rim at Vil who is similarly observing him above the edge of his smartphone.

“Why are we back on this?” Vil sets his phone aside.

“Because you never said.”

“It’s not important.”

“Yes it is. You must have realized that fooling around is a waste of time -- humans have such regrettably short lifespans -- and it's high time to be channeling all that effort towards someone you like  _ beyond _ their sexual prowess."

"..."

"Perhaps you've already found someone more compatible--"

"There isn't anybody, alright!" Vil denies hotly, which only makes Malleus grin.

"There so is. Do I know them? Are they at school with us?”

“Malleus.”

“Is it me after all?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Shall I enumerate the entire student body? You can nod any time.”

“You can’t possibly know them all.”

“Let’s start with the third years, then. I know you prefer older lovers.”

“Malleus, please.”

“Oh, the  _ faculty? _ Dear me, Vil…”

It’s the faux scandalized voice that does him in. Vil is giggling, wiping away the moisture that’s collected at the corner of his eyes. Then, abruptly, he stops.

Malleus finds it most curious. Moreso when a name leaves those supple lips, bitten out like it was something so bitter.

“Azul.”

Vil’s posture is tense, defensive. Malleus turns to see the newcomer bearing the same countenance.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your tea time,” Azul inclines his head. “I was looking for Riddle. Might either of you direct me to him?”

“He’s probably inside the dorm,” Vil replies, succinct.

“Of course.” Some dark, ugly emotion swims behind those glasses as Azul pushes them into place. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Won’t you join us for a bite, Azul?” Malleus asks out of courtesy. There’s still half of the cake left and it's doubtful that he and Vil can finish it by themselves.

“Thank you for the invite, but I’m afraid I’m in a hurry,” Azul smiles, apologetic. “Maybe next time.”

Vil watches him retreat, making sure that the second-year Prefect is completely out of sight before he drops his defenses. He huffs, seemingly gathering himself for a second, and soon as he opens his eyes, Vil grabs the cake slicer and cuts the remaining portion in half. A whole quarter of the strawberry cake lands on his plate. He starts stabbing the innocent chiffon, taking each bite with such barely contained rage Malleus fears he might chew through the silverware.

He doesn’t, of course.

“Did he… do something to you?” Malleus hazards. There hasn't been any indication for such sour disregard between the two as far as he knows. Then again, Malleus only ever sees them interact during prefect meetings.

Vil swallows. “No. I won’t let him.”

His phrasing just now sounds… odd… to Malleus’ ears, but he couldn’t quite place it and so, for the moment, he lets Vil be. He refills Vil’s teacup in case the latter needs some liquid to swallow that excessive amount of cake he’s shoveling into his mouth.

It’s about five minutes later, when Vil has demolished the cake on his plate and is washing it down with aged white-leaf tea, that Malleus gets it. Rather, he catches a glimpse of Azul leaving the Heartslabyul dormitory with his impeccable businessman’s stride. But, for just one moment, Azul falters, looking back at the heart-shaped topiaries, beyond which lies the gazebo and outdoor tables and… 

“Oh by the Hammer of Witches…”

“What?” Vil arches a brow, settling back to his usual poise and attitude.

“...But he doesn’t fit your criteria… Not at all…”

“Malleus, what are you--”

_“Azul? ”_

That shuts Vil up. His face turns a very interesting shade of purple, almost like it’s mimicking his ombre hair. He takes a shaky breath and mutters, “... Fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> azulvil otp but somehow this story had to be published first so if i ever continue this, everythings gonna be ass-backwards hurrah
> 
> if u guessed vils stupid crush before the end reveal u get a takoyaki (○ﾟε ^ ○)
> 
> [recommended BGM](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0fFlCPRoWA)


End file.
